FEEL WITH YOUR HEART
by allthingsdarkx
Summary: 'It's just Kurt. The married man—the husband of my next door neighbour. Some might call it an affair, I just call it having fun. Allison doesn't know and he doesn't seem to mind it.' WARNING: Adultery and some other things you may not approve of. If you're one of those people that takes a FICTIONAL story too literal my books aren't for you.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N : I know alot of people read a little too much into things. Before y'all attack I don't condone cheating at all. It's a disgusting act but this is all fiction and used solely for my entertainment.**

 **OK bye.**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

The sun is still resolutely below the horizon and the street is as dark as some old-school black and white movie.

I know it's early morning because I can't hear the whir of the coffee machine yet and because my heart is pounding right out of my chest. That's how I wake up every day now, like someone just fired a gun next to my eardrum. Only there's no gun. It's just Kurt. The married man—the husband of my next door neighbour.

Some might call it an affair, I just call it having fun. Allison doesn't know and he doesn't seem to mind it.

I mean, obviously I felt horrible. Allison was really sweet, when I first moved in she brought me cookies and an amazing apple pie that she still serves when she invites me over for dinner.

If only she knew I was fucking her husband she'd probably have a heart attack.

Sometimes... Sometimes I wish I could extend the night just so I could stay close to him for longer, safe in his embrace. His arms wrapped right around me bring a peace I've never known before, a calming of the storms in my heart.

But then he leaves, often before the sun is fully risen in the sky and I remember he's not mine; he had never been and he never would be.

"Good morning"

I craned my neck to where the sound of his voice came from, still raspy from sleep. He stood at the doorway with a wooden tray, clad in just his plaided pajama pants—the one he decided to leave at my place.

"I brought you breakfast." He muses

He certainly doesn't make it easy on the ' _it's just sex_ ' thing

"Thank you. Eat with me?"

The left side of his faint red lip tugged upwards creating a sinister smirk on his god like face; casting a spell of lust to eyes that dare look his way.

"Wish I could," he sighed glancing at his watch, "It's time for me to get home" he said it as if it were the most normal thing but it wasn't. She was sleeping with him, he was married to her friend. This wasn't just a mess it was a disaster zone.

The kiss came out of nowhere. One minute Kurt was over the other side of the room pushing his pajamas down his legs revealing his nude body to her, the next he was kissing her, his hand clasped gently into the back of her hair, pressing in softly. After a few seconds he broke away and smiled, "I just had to do that"

Jane patted the bed seductively. Kurt, unable to deny her, succumbed to her desire.

* * *

"Hello." A petite, blonde woman chirped. Her blonde hair was poker-straight and pulled back into a low pony-tail.

She wore little make-up and had the biggest grin on her face.

"My name's Allison and this is my husband Kurt. We live next door." Her happiness was disgustingly annoying and it took everything in Jane to not roll her eyes.

Her husband, on the other hand, he remained silent but his appearance spoke volumes.

He had tousled dark brown hair, which was thick and lustrous. His eyes were a mesmerising deep ocean blue, flecks of silvery light performed ballets throughout.

His face was strong and defined, his features molded from granite. He had dark eye brows, which sloped downwards in a serious expression.

" _Kurt Weller_ "

* * *

"Atleast tell me his name. Please?" Tasha, Jane's best friend asked, throwing the shot of tequila down her throat.

Her and Tasha had been bestfriends for 11 years. They met in college where they were forced to be roommates against both of their wishes. In a week's time they were almost inseparable.

Tasha leaned on the bar, her black hair lying over one shoulder of her sequinned dress. She lolled her head to one side, pushing out her red lips just a little. She wasn't drunk yet but she liked to give the impression that she was. The bartender was there to take her order in a flash, eyes dropping only momentarily to her low-cut neckline.

She twiddled her hair in a seemingly absent-minded way and giggled girlishly before ordering a Barcardi Breezer.

Suddenly, I'm laughing so hard, I can't stop. I wave my hand in the air, my flag of apology. I don't know why, but the waves of laughter keep coming.

"I'm sorry. You were all over that" Jane managed to choke out in between laughter.

The bar is hundreds of conversations told in loud voices, all of them competing with the rock music that dominates the atmosphere. The crowd is young, students from the university for the most part. The bartender returns back with Tasha's drink and a cocktail shot.

"Come one, girly. Maybe if I could get you drunk enough you'll spill his name. Let's go dance" Tasha yelled over music, tugging Jane towards the dance floor.

I'm dancing like this is my last night on Earth, but I think that's just the way my mind avoids thinking about the hangover to come. The music moves me like I'm a puppet on strings, my head mashing so hard my brain is in shut down mode.

There's so much sweat on my skin and not all of it is mine. The strobe masks so many of my movements, every clap of my hands like it's on pause at different moments. Tomorrow they'll be hell to pay but tonight the alcohol keeps on flowing in like it's on IV drip.

* * *

It was midmorning and I still had a head that felt like an axe was planted in it. My eyesight struggled to cope with the daylight and I fumbled tying the belt on my dressing gown. With my brain still struggling to recover from the previous night's abuse I had very few options. Reading would be impossible, the TV too garish and I was staying away from social media for fear of what I might see.

So instead I elected to feed myself and dragged my heavy limbs into the kitchen to make a fry up. Eggs, bacon, sausages, perfect for a hangover.

Her phone pinged with message after message, most of them from Kurt; his had a special ring.

After breakfast she figured a nice cold bath would ease her throbbing head.

I strip down and step slowly into the tub, turning the water on high and letting it beat over my head in steamy rivulets. Closing my eyes to the water as the heat soaks into my skin, my mind wanders to him. He was someone's husband and I was sleeping with him. This had been going on for an entire month and the worst part of it all was that I actually enjoyed it—enjoyed him.

 _You need to call it off,_ her inner voice scolded.

 _He's not your husband. He's your very attractive neighbour who has a lovely wife that loves him dearly._

 _You're just another notch in his belt but you don't have to be._

It was final. She was calling it off tonight.

The stress spread through my mind like ink on paper. I took in deep, ragged breath before placing my hands over my face.

 **I'll call it off tonight.**

The guilt sat not on her chest but inside her brain. What she had done she could not undo. She could make amends in subtle ways, but a confession was out of the question.

She couldn't keep doing that to the woman who showed her so much kindness and so much love. She was betraying her friend.

 **I'll call it off tonight.**

* * *

 **Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

Her words fall out of her mouth like vapour but land in my guts as shrapnel. I feel my insides tear, and the blood drain from my face. I would laugh but she's dead serious. Her eyes are cold like I've never seen and her features immobile. She hands back the birthday present I gave her just yesterday and I let it fall as soon as its weight hits my palm.

There is the hard sound of metal on wood but neither of us move to pick it up. I am trying to understand the words she's telling me but I can't.

 _We can't keep doing this to your wife. She loves you._

"You're kidding, right?" I asked, my voice shaky. She meets my eyes for the first time that morning and I see the truth buried there.

"It's over," she turns away slowly trying to hide the pain in her eyes.

"Jane —" I start only to be interrupted by the raise of her hand. It takes everything in me to not interlock our fingers together like I'd normally do when she's upset. Sometimes that was all it took for her to relax and mold herself into my touch but I had a feeling that would do no good so I clenched my fists tightly against my sides trying my best to obey her demands.

Then she turns to go, shoulders sunken and her hands in her jeans pocket. Before I know what I'm doing I'm standing in her way and we lock eyes, the perfect distance for a kiss, but she shakes her head. I can see my pain mirrored in her bright eyes.

"Go home, Kurt." She whispers gently before turning on her heel and walking off. I watch her as she picks up her black leather jacket from the arm of the chair and makes her way over to the door.

She spares me one last look before slamming the door shut. I don't know how long I was standing there. Alone.

 _As much as I'd like to admit she was wrong, she wasn't._

I was a married man. Allie and I have been married for 2 years, don't get me wrong or anything Allie was always there for me. She'd always been so willing and for that I will always be grateful. But you know what they say?

 _Relationships that start fast, end fast._

It had been a whirl wind romance, hot and heavy. Not much talking had been done, it was mostly non-verbal, physical. Then we had bought tickets to Vegas and came back Mr and Mrs.

She was so excited about it that I just didn't have the heart to tell her that we should get a divorce since it was all a drunken act. The marriage was a sham.

It hadn't been love. It was all fun and games. The sex, on the other hand, had been great for awhile.

With Allison, the sex had brought us together. The sex was the cause of our marriage. But she was my wife, she was an amazing woman and Jane had been right.

 _Allie didn't deserve this._

But with Jane, It was all long tales, the rambling, the quick wit. The sex was a bonus but Jane reached places I didn't even know I had.

As the full realisation, and the consequence of the earlier misdemeanor, finally sank in, the pit of my stomach stirred.

"I have to make this right"

* * *

Jane would cry for her misfortune, the men who treated her so badly, and drink herself into oblivion. Then she'd sober up and choose another man, often one worse than the last. With her big spirit and personality she would hook up with control freaks and be surprised when things went wrong. After either a few weeks or a few years of flying profanities and fists she would again be confused, where had she gone wrong this time? Was it her weight? Her hair? Her wardrobe? How were so many of her plain friends getting married?

"Maybe love just isn't for me," I said pouring the remaining Bourbon into a glass.

The ice falls against the glass, my fingers sliding on the condensation before my fingers regain their grip. I feel the chill run down my esophagus and my head makes an involuntary shake. A numbness creeps into my brain the way it did when I was a kid drinking too much slurpee too fast.

It had been a week since I called off the affair with Kurt. He didn't call and I wasn't going to pretend that I wasn't hurt by it but I had no right to be upset. _I_ broke it off with _him._

I could feel the hard painful lump in the back of my throat as the tears began to form.

"Do you miss him," Tasha asked suddenly

"No"

"Are you sure?"

"No." I paused. "I'll never be sure of anything, because I was so sure about him. me. us."

Tasha glanced over with sad eyes, "can't you guys just work it out?"

 _It was now or never. Tasha still didn't know who he was. I'd only told her about the amazing sex but never placed a face to the mystery man of the night._

"He's married, Tash" I finally breath out, shifting my gaze from her face to my feet.

I wore those socks that looked like gloves for the feet; the comfiest kind, if you ask me.

"What? Wait are you _sure_ he's married? Do you even know any married men —"

Tasha's eyes and her mouth were suddenly frozen wide open in an expression of stunned surprise

"Kurt Weller? _The_ Kurt Weller? Your really hot _married_ neighbour?" Tasha practically screams it in my face.

I immediately wince at how loud she is.

"Would you be quiet? His wife invited me over for dinner tonight and would not let me decline."

"Oh honey, I'll make some tea." Tasha muttered making her over way over to the kitchen.

* * *

Just stepping into the house makes my breathing rapid and shallow. I can feel my pulse pounding in my temples. It's a relief to get to the couch, because between the heels and my legs shaking, I'm afraid I'll trip.

"Kurt has to work late again tonight but that's fine. It gives us more time to have a little girl chat." Allie exclaimed excitedly squeezing my hand in hers.

She sat down besides Jane on the couch and tucked her long legs under her body. They chattered about the usual things and by they I mean Allie talked and Jane listened. She threw in an occasion nod or sometimes a grunt when necessary but that was it.

"Kurt has been really distant," Allie starts suddenly. "More than usual. I think he might be having an affair"

After the sudden outburst Jane's eyes were as immobile as the rest of her face, as if news like that was impossible to absorb any faster. She was frozen for maybe three whole seconds before the corners of her mouth resumed their usual frown. "Listen Allie —"

There was the noise of a key in the lock and then the door swung open, not slowly like he usually did when he returned, but fast and with enough force to drive the door into the plaster opposite. Allie stood up, her breathing suspended, "Are you okay?"

Kurt stumbles in looking like he just slept on some someone's floor, his usually styled locks stuck like an ill thought out piece of art. Jane begins to open her mouth but closes it without comment.

"You're drunk" Allie frowns, taking in his full appearance.

His tie hung loosely around his neck. His white t-shirt that usually fit him fine now looked like his big brother's shirt, clinging where it shouldn't and hanging loose where it should.

"I'm fine. I'm gonna go take a shower" he murmured, his eyes never leaving Jane's. He was silently begging her to follow him; make up some crazy excuse about using the bathroom so they could have a few minutes to talk.

"Whatever's cooking smells amazing, Allie. Thank you for inviting me over." Jane muses, mustering the best fake smile she could possibly come up with.

Allie quickly thanked her and made her way to the kitchen.

 _You cannot cave,_ her mind scolded. _You need to be stronger than this._

* * *

Cuts of the pork had been served with a refreshing apple sauce, easing the perfectly cooked meat down. It had been accompanied by potatoes that were diced up in a bowl with carrots, mushrooms and zucchini topped off with a healthy dash of pepper that stung the throat in the most pleasurable way. Then after the pork, had come the desserts, Allie placing a slice of a cherry torte on the table in front of them. The pastry had been light, both in texture and colour, with a thick dark brown crust, all of which contrasted with the beautiful cherry red sauce that poured out of it. The torte was topped by a thin layer of icing sugar as white as snow.

"You didn't have to, Allie. A simple pie would've been fine."

"It's not a problem." Allie replied in her usual chirpy voice.

 _How was this woman so happy all of the time?_

We chatted lightly over dinner and ever so often I made eye contact with Kurt.

When our eyes lock over the dinner table the soft expressions of only a few days ago have evaporated. Kurt holds my gaze, but instead of the warmth I was used to it's with an icy hostility. I crack a joke about one of my many drunken experiences and he snorts, his face impassive but tilted back a little so he's literally looking down on me. After a few seconds he turns his head to the window, eyes just as still; then he speaks with a robotic tone "You have a wonderful evening now, Jane."

And with that he makes an unnatural turn to the left that allows his gaze never to meet mine, picks up his plate, places it in the dish washer and leaves.


End file.
